


Bad Attorney/坏律师

by Lynnmix



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynnmix/pseuds/Lynnmix
Summary: It started with her coming to my office for a paid legal consultation session. A girl dressed as a woman, barely old enough to drink.“I’m going to kill my father. And I want to know will happen after that.” The consultation opened with her blunt words.(Chinese version see Chapter 2｜中文翻译在第二章)
Kudos: 3





	1. Bad Attorney

It started with her coming to my office for a paid legal consultation session. A girl dressed as a woman, barely old enough to drink.

“I’m going to kill my father. And I want to know will happen after that.” The consultation opened with her blunt words.

Her impassive tone made it doesn’t sound like a joke, but even if it was a joke, I would treat it as serious as possible, for the sake of the generous amount of cash she brought along.

I explained that she would most likely be arrested, with a probable cause since the victim is her own father, her rights would be read to her before the interrogation and she can consult an attorney before speaking with the police or have an attorney present during the questioning. 

“How much should I pay if I hire you?” She then asked.

“A lot,” I replied. “Murder cases are serious charges so the price naturally goes up. I can’t tell you the exact amount since I do not know the details of your condition. As a defense attorney, I may accept your case, but that will only happen after your arrest. And also, I need to remind you that as a citizen, I am obligated to report a crime that is going to be committed.”

In this case, had she hired me before the murder, I could be charged as an abettor, for I knew about her plan and offered my legal assistance.

“Do as you want, they won’t take me seriously.” She smiled as if she already knew what will happen. They never took me seriously.

“You’re implying that you have encountered the police before,” I said.

“There’s no need to pretend you haven’t figure out my job, mister. And in this line of work, yes, I have met police, multiple times.” She raised her hand to pull the bra strap that has been falling from her shoulder and let the rubber band snapped against her skin. 

This girl has no manner. I made a mental comment. I was never fond of such inappropriateness, but yes, I do figure out her job from observing the way she dresses and behave, plus the mere fact that she was holding a large amount of cash. The evidence screamed to me that this girl is a prostitute and if this assumption holds, the father would be very likely to be her pimp.

“Then what can I do to make sure it will be you.” She asked.

“After arrest, you will be entitled to a phone call and you can call me if you have my number. Or, you can call someone you trust and ask them to make the phone call. As a suspect, you won’t have much opportunity to contact the outside, which means that the conversation between us can be limited. My suggestion is to ask someone you trust to do this job so that I can gather information from them and the time will not be wasted on the travails when we actually talk.”

“But, isn’t it weird?” She laughed a little. “People like me knowing a defense attorney’s number. And you’re not even a charity lawyer, you’re a fancy one, way outside my league.”

I remembered I also laughed a little to her description of me. “In some sense, yes,” I said. “But people do not pay me for the fanciness. I am, after all, quite good at dealing with difficult cases. It won’t sound too strange for you to call me, for the same reason you found my address and came to me today.”

“I was looking for the best murder defense attorney in town.” She muttered. “I guess you’re right.”

The clock on my office table beeped. 

“This ends surprisingly fast.” She was trying to make some bad joke about the length of the session in comparison with, well, her usual “services”, but soon gave up because she cannot find the right punchline. I appreciated that silence.

Then she got up and left the cash on my table. “Can I come next week, same time?”

I looked at my calendar and replied. “Yes, I hold regular office hours for legal inquires, but please, remember you should not talk anything about your plan to me or to anyone.” 

(Or just don’t do it. Don’t go out and kill people, especially it’s someone you’re closed to. )

“Nah.” She waved her hands. “We’re just talking about hypothetical situations, they were nothing but some mental gymnastics.” As if that impassive voice never existed, she left with a rather joyful tone.

* * *

  
With her visit became somehow regular, the story naturally unfolds.

Her past was like a train of worse case scenarios, father raped daughter, mother left the family after finding out, the family went bankrupt, daughter started doing compensated dating to afford cellphone and accessories, father found out and became the pimp, at first no sex involved, then non-penetrative sex, eventually the full-course. It all happened within a few months and up to now, it has been going on for almost three years.

“It begins with him, so it will end with him.” And there she was, talking nonchalantly about murdering her own father. 

I was in no position to judge her, and I was painfully aware of that. From what she said, I did feel that her father was the one to blame and he deserve every bit of the punishment. Still, it was the murder of a family member. Legally speaking or not, this was different from murdering someone else. I cannot personally think of how would it feel differently, though I do have parents and a younger brother and the latter gave me the urge from time to time. But, there is a difference between toying about the thoughts and carrying them out, and, even now, I doubt she had thoroughly thought about it.

“It doesn’t have to end in this way,” I remembered the last time I tried to persuade her out of that plan, for I have known too much about the details to clear myself from the suspicion. 

“I know, but I don’t want any of those ways. Think of a vase, once broken, it will never be the same. No matter how hard you try to put the pieces together, the vase has been broken and people could tell, they can always tell. Heck, you can fix the crack with gold and make it pretty and fancy, but it is still a broken vase and nothing can change that fact.”

“Murder cannot change that fact, too,” I said.

She let her words out before choked on tears. “I know, and because I know that there’s nothing that anyone can do to make it all disappear, I choose to murder him as the second-best option.”

She rolled up her sleeve to show me those scars from cutting, layers and layers of scar tissue had made that small piece of skin looked more like leather. “My friend told me this trick, and I can also use it to wave off some clients that I dislike.”

“He said nothing about it as long as I earn the same amount of money and clear out the bloodstains.” In an instant, her voice dropped. “It hurts, you know, see, all healed, but sometimes it still hurts.”

I can only say that I felt vaguely related, as I do have a scar on my hand. A valuable lesson for the young of the safety when using scissors and not playing with dirt with an open wound. My hand got seriously infected and it left me with a big scar and some missing tissue. Whenever I saw that scar, I also felt hurt, though not physically.

The clock beeped. That was when I decided further persuasion would be fruitless.

* * *

  
From a retrospect, the conversation between her and me has gradually become less and less professional. We spent less time talking about the legal consequences of her action and more on the past. I had to admit that I was expecting the development of this relationship and had actively gained her trust little by little, to push the topic forward, to dig more information about her “clients”.

It turned out that her father was quite influential and he had hooked her up with several “elites”. I found this out when she pointed to the old news and said she knew about that person and the person being said was the local police chief who was accused of rape by a prostitute he arrested. It was a false charge, I handled that case several months ago. 

“I see.” I gave her a nod for acknowledgment of that information, which was reasonable since she was also a prostitute.

“No. I mean, I know him as a client.” She gave me one of those smiles, luring me to press further for the information. “And I know that he did not rape her, or, in other sense, he could not do it.”

“You’re right.” I nodded. I did not want to reveal too much information about my past cases for the sake of privacy, but she was correct and I believed that such information was not a secret to her anyway. If the chief was her client, then she must know about his condition, which was a piece of decisive evidence that contradicted the victim’s testimony. 

“I bet you get him off-hook by saying he had some dysfunction down there.” There was a certain look on her face, a certain degree of triumph as if she finally outwitted me in some contest.

“But I bet you don’t know that she cannot be his target from the very beginning. He was not interested in grown-up women. That man is a pedophile.”

“How does it feel? To defend a monster like him?” She then asked.

“I did my job. I was hired for that particular case, and I fulfilled my duty.” To my defense, I was not aware of his abnormal sexual preference beforehand, nor did I have any solid proof during that period. I did sense something was off about that man, but again, it was unrelated to the case and I refrained myself from thinking too much about it.

“I’m not accusing you. I mean, even the bad guys have the right to ask for an attorney. I’ll contradict myself if I blame you for defending the guilty. After all, if my case is brought up to the court, I am guilty for sure.” 

Then she kept on talking about the details for him as her client. I remained silent for the rest of the conversation while taking mental notes of the pieces of information. I could make some research after she left, and that would give me some material for asking favors from that certain man. 

Then the clock beeped. She left with cash and a promise of coming at the same time next week.

* * *

  
She eventually managed to buy a pistol. It was our last meeting, on a rainy afternoon, and I hated the weather. 

At least she learned something from our conversation, she only mentioned she had acquired it but did not say where it was and whether she was carrying it right then. 

“It’s so hard to get those things, but I got lucky, I had the right contact.” She seemed unusually delightful, which I could understand, it would probably end today.

“Should I ask about it?” I questioned. I have to admit that I have been avoiding this topic, of why I accept her money and allowed the weekly consultation. The reason was simple, I made her payment untraceable and used the cash to make “influences”. That was not saying that I’m directly bribing the prosecution or the judge or anyone. It was just about building connections and being on good terms.

I asked her about the pistols because I want her contacts. I have no interest in buying a gun myself, but this contact of hers was surely resourceful. Perhaps, one day, I will need information or evidence that can be only acquired in unconventional ways and when that happens, I need to know who should I ask for.

"I sold a lot of stuff to her before.” She put her hand into her bag and I could only assume that she was trying to find the pistol. “Clients with sensitive identity sometimes pay with stuff other than cash, like, jewelry, cards, and other stuff. So I need to cash them out and she was the one I go to. He only has a loose concept of how much that stuff worth so I can save some money for myself. In fact, I paid my visit and the fee for hiring you with that money.”

To my surprise, she took out an envelope and placed it on my table.

“Your payment.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And a letter of request.” 

“I shall not accept it beforehand.”

“Then open it after you hear the news.” 

The clock beeped. She stood up and reached out her hand to find mine.

“It’s a pleasure.” She said.

She left before I could bid my goodbye.

* * *

  
I woke up with the news of a murder.

The daughter attempted to murder her father, missed the shot, father arrested for killing daughter in self-defense. 

I came to the office to retrieve the envelope and left right away. In the envelope, there was a letter of request and a locker key. The address on the envelope pointed to a nearby train station.

I drove to the station, opened the locker, and I was surprised, not by the amount of money that she made as an underage prostitute for merely three years, but by the fact that there were men paying that amount of money to rape a girl of their daughter’s age.

Did I mention that I have explained the alternatives to her? All the alternatives I could think of. Report it to the police, report it to the child protect services, have them arrested, you don’t need to worry about the next, the state will press charges against them. 

I certainly did, because I remembered her standing there, gently shaking her head, cutting me off with a sad smile. 

“I’ll not have it in any other way.” She said. "The only thing I want is him to be dead.”

Perhaps I should’ve reported her for planning to murder her own father after her first visit for legal consultation. Or I could report her for possession of a prohibited weapon when she told me about the pistol she bought that night.

Or I should at least warn her that the knockback from firing a pistol would very likely dislocate her arm and that she only has one chance to do the deed. 

But all that would require me to be involved, and that would be too risky for my career, for my reputation. Not that I was not confident in my skills as a defense attorney, quite the contrary, I was certain that I would be able to plea for a lesser charge or make her case as self-defense. Given enough time and the right prosecutor, I can even “prove” her innocence. 

At that time, I decided not to intervene, as my agreement with her would only take effect after she was arrested.

Now she’s dead.

The money and the letter of request have lost their purpose.

Later, I heard from a friend that the father was trying to find the best murder defense attorney in town, but failed to do so because he bargained with every one of them for a lower price. Friend complained to me about just how crazy the father’s obsession with money. I wasn’t surprised since I knew from a long time ago that that poor excuse of a human refused to call the escorts and decided to make his own daughter the victim of his sexual desire, all just for saving the dimes.

And here I am, in my car, driving to the suburb, with the letter of request from a failed murderer and a bag of money from a dead prostitute. I burned them in the fireplace at an abandoned campsite and let the river take away the ashes as if I was some murderer trying to get rid of the evidence.

That money burned just like everything else. There was the heat, there was smoke, and the unpleasant sight of fire so bright that my eyes watered when I looked directly into it. It hurt more when I can it see it clearly through glasses, so I took them off, and the smoke irritated my eyes. 

At what stage does a lawyer sell their soul? I cannot pinpoint the exact time, but one thing is certain, that at this point, mine was already sold.

I am, a bad attorney. 


	2. 坏律师

一切是从她来到我的事务所进行付费法律咨询开始的。那个女孩穿成女人的样子，看上去刚刚够法定饮酒的年龄。  
“我要杀了我的父亲，我想知道那之后会发生什么。”她直截了当地说。  
她的语气非常平淡，所以我不觉得她在开玩笑——不过即便那真的是玩笑的话，我也会认真地进行回复，毕竟她付了钱，而我提供的是值得这些钱的法律服务。  
于是我向她解释了哪怕没有目击证人看到她犯下罪行，她很可能会被列为嫌疑人逮捕，因为受害者是她的父亲；在审讯之前，警察会向她宣读她的权利，而她在回答问题之前可以选择咨询律师，或者要求律师陪同审问过程。  
“那么我需要多少钱来雇佣你？”她问道。  
“很多。”我回答，“谋杀是严重的指控，所以费用自然比其他情况要高。我不知道你的具体情况，所以我没有办法给出具体的价格。作为辩护律师，我可能会选择接受这个案子，但这是你被捕之后才会发生的事情。并且，我有必要提醒你，作为一名公民，我有义务举报一桩即将发生的犯罪。”  
而且如果她在实施谋杀之前就雇了我的话，我在之后可能会染上共犯的嫌疑，毕竟我知晓她的计划，并且提供了法律援助。  
“你大可试试，但他们不会把我当回事的。”她微笑了，就好像已经知道了我报警的结果，“他们从来没有把我当回事。”  
“你在此之前遇到过警察。”我说。  
“你没有必要假装自己没看出我的职业，先生。做我这份工作的当然免不了和警察打交道，没错，我已经和警察交手过很多次了。”她抬起手，拉起了掉下来的内衣肩带，任由它弹回去打在肩膀上。  
这个女孩很没有礼貌。我在内心如此评价。虽然我从来看不上这种没礼貌的人，但她说的没错，我确实通过她的穿着和言行举止以及手头大量的现金猜出了她的职业。所有的证据都表明这个女孩是一个妓女，而如果我的推理没有错的话，那么她的父亲很可能就是她的皮条客。  
“那么我要怎么做才能保证我到时候能找到你？”她问。  
“在你被捕之后，你会有一次打电话的机会，你可以那时候打给我。或者你也可以打给你信任的人，让他们打给我。毕竟作为嫌犯，你和外界进行交流的机会不会很多，这就意味着我们之间的直接对话很有限。所以我的建议是你委托你信任的人来委托我，这样我可以事先从他们那里获得一些信息，节省一些我们之间对话的时间。”  
“但是，这难道不是很奇怪吗？”她笑了笑，“我这样的人竟然知道辩护律师的号码，而且你甚至不是一个慈善律师，你是个高档的家伙，完全不在我的交际范围内。”  
我记得我当时因为她对我的描述而笑了一下。“某种意义上是的。”我回答，“但人们雇佣我不是因为我看起来高级，而是因为我非常擅长处理麻烦的案件。你知道我的号码并不奇怪，毕竟你都找到我的事务所地址了。”  
“我在找城里最好的谋杀案件的辩护律师。”她小声说着，“你说的有道理。”  
我桌上的表响了。  
“这真是比我想得要快啊。”她似乎想讲点玩笑话，把这次法律咨询的时长和她提供的“服务”类比，不过想了半天都没想出什么有笑点的东西就放弃了。我很庆幸她没有真的把那些话讲出来。  
于是她站起身，把现金放到了我的桌上。“我下周可以来吗？”  
我看了看日历，回答：“可以，我每周都有固定的时间做法律咨询，但是请记住，你不应该和我或者和任何人提及你的计划。”  
（或者干脆就不要做，不要杀人，尤其是你的亲人。）  
“你在说什么啊？”她摆了摆手，“我们只是在谈论一些假想的情况而已。”她的语气里带着活泼，就好像那种平淡冷漠的语调从未出现过。

* * *

随着她的不断来访，故事渐渐展开。  
她的过去就像是一连串的悲剧。父亲性侵了女儿，母亲发现了这件事离家出走，家庭破产，女儿进行援助交际赚钱买手机和小玩意，父亲发现了这件事然后成了皮条客，一开始没有性行为，然后是非插入式性行为，最后做全套。这一切发生在几个月之内，而直到现在，这件事已经持续了快要三年。  
“一切因他而起，所以也会以他结束。”然后她就在我面前，波澜不惊地说着谋杀父亲的计划。  
我当然不配对她指手画脚，虽然我很想给她建议，但我知道我没有权力这样做。从她的话中，我当然认为她的父亲是万恶之源，并且活该去死。但无论如何，这依然是对家庭亲属的谋杀。无论是从法律的角度还是别的角度，谋杀家庭成员和谋杀外人有本质的不同。我当然没办法知道这不同究竟是什么，虽然我自己也有父母和一个弟弟，并且我确实也时不时地想把我那烦人精弟弟弄死，但这毕竟只是想法，想法和实践也有本质的区别。而直到现在，我依然很怀疑她是否真的想明白了这一点。  
“你没必要一定要这么做。”我记得我最后一次试图说服她放弃那个计划，因为那个时候我已经知道了太多，如果她真的去杀了人，那我很可能也会被警察找上门。  
“我知道，但除此之外我什么都不想要。譬如一个花瓶，一旦打碎，就永远不会和原来一样了。无论你多努力把它拼在一起，它依然是一个碎过的花瓶，而人们会发现这一点，人们总是能发现这一点。你哪怕用金箔去填那些裂缝，把它做得更好看、更高档也没有用，它依然是一个打碎过的花瓶，这个事实是改变不了的。”  
“谋杀也改变不了这个事实。”我说。  
她在被哽咽噎住之前挤出了词句：“我知道，而正是因为我知道无论谁做什么都不能抹消我经历的一切，我才会把杀掉他作为第二好的选项。”  
她卷起袖子给我看自残的伤口，一层一层的疤痕组织叠在一起，那块皮肤看上去已经不像是皮肤而更像是发皱的皮革。“我朋友建议我这么做的，而我也能用它来吓跑一些我不喜欢的客人。”  
“他说只要我赚一样多的钱并且把血迹擦干净的话就不会管我。”一瞬间，她的声音听上去非常的悲伤，“很疼，你看，明明都愈合了，但还是会疼。”  
我只能说我大概知道那是什么感觉，我手上也有一处伤疤。那是一个惨痛的教训，我当时在玩剪刀切到了手，伤口还没好就去玩土，结果那个伤口严重感染，在我的手上留了一道很大的疤，还少了几块肉。每当我看到那道伤口，我依然会觉得内心刺痛。  
我桌上的表响了。而就在那一刻，我放弃了说服她的想法。

* * *

回想起来，我和她之间的对话逐渐地偏离了法律咨询的范畴，法律的话题越聊越少，而过去的回忆越来越多。我必须承认，我有意地引导了这样的展开，并且主动地博取了她的信任，以便我继续打探她的客户的消息。  
我意外地了解到她的父亲是一个颇有影响力的皮条客，在他的牵线搭桥下，有不少“精英客户”曾经买下过她。那天，她惯常来进行法律咨询，然后指着一张旧报纸上的人说她认得这个人，那人是当地的警察局长，当时被指控强奸他逮捕的一名妓女，最终法庭判定指控无效，而当时给他辩护的正是我本人。  
“哦是吗。”我点了点头，表示我知道了，这并没有什么可惊讶的，毕竟她也是一名妓女。  
“不，我是说，他是我的客人。”她向我露出了那种微笑，那种诱导我继续追问的微笑，“而且我知道他绝对干不出那种事，或者说，他根本就做不到。”  
“你说的没错。”我点了点头，我并不想谈论太多过去案件的细节，毕竟这是保密的事项，但她说的没错，而且我觉得这对她来说恐怕也不是什么秘密。如果那位局长真的是她的客人，那么她一定知道他的身体状况，而这就是当时推翻控告的关键证据。  
“我打赌，你是用他的医疗报告给他洗白的，说他下面不行。”她看上去洋洋得意，就好像在一场智力游戏中赢了我一样。  
“但我打赌你绝对不可能知道，她一开始就不会是他的下手目标，因为他根本就不喜欢成年女性，那个男的是恋童癖。”  
“感觉怎么样？给这么一个恶魔辩护？”她问。  
“我只是做了我的工作，他雇用了我替他在这个案件里辩护，仅此而已。”我感觉必须要为自己辩解一下，我在接受案件之前不知道他有这方面的问题，而在整件事情过程中，我也从未得到任何能证明他是个恋童癖的证据。尽管我当时确实有感觉到那个男的不对劲，但是话又说回来，这与当时的案件无关，我就没让自己细想下去。  
“我没有指责你。毕竟坏人也有被辩护的权利。如果我指责你给罪犯辩护的话，那我就自相矛盾了，毕竟到时候你要替我辩护，而我可是真的有罪。”  
然后她就开始聊起了那个客户的事情，而我则继续保持沉默。我默默记下了她说出的关键信息，或许在她离开之后我能做一些调查，获得一些筹码，或许日后我需要这个人为我做事。  
然后我桌上的表响了，她把钱留在桌上，说下周也会来。

* * *

她最终弄到了一把手枪，在我们最后一次见面的时候，一个下雨的午后，我讨厌下雨。  
至少他在我们的对话里学到了点东西，她只是对我说了她弄到了枪，并没有说那把枪在哪，也没有说她是否正拿着它。  
“现在这种东西可不好搞了，不过我正好有认识的人。”她看上去异常地兴奋，不过这也可以理解，毕竟今天一切都会结束。  
“我应该提问吗？”我问道。必须要承认，一直以来我都在回避提及这个话题，就是我为什么收下了她的钱并且允许她每周都来进行咨询。答案很简单，因为她用现金付款，而我没有把它记在账上。我用私吞的这笔点打点关系——请不要误会，我并没有直接贿赂检察官或者法官什么的，我只是用它来结交一些“朋友”。  
于是我问了她是从哪里得到这把手枪的，我想要知道她的这个熟人是谁。当然，我不是为了买枪，但既然这个人能搞到枪支，那么她/他一定也能搞到其他很多的东西。或许有一天我也会需要这样的帮助，弄到一些必须要用这类手段才能弄到的证物或者信息，而那个时候我得知道我应该去找谁帮忙。  
“我卖给过她很多东西。”她把手放进包里，我猜她大概在找那把手枪吧。“有一些客人身份不方便直接给钱，他们一般会给其他的东西，珠宝、礼品卡或者别的。我需要有人帮我把它们换成现金，而她就是做这个的。他并不太清楚那些东西的具体价格，所以我可以攒下来一点私房钱，付你的这些钱就是我这么攒下来的。”  
我没想到的是，她没有拿出手枪，而是拿了个信封出来。  
“这是我雇你的钱。”她笑了，是假笑，“还有一封委托书。”  
“我不能在案发前接受这个东西。”  
“那就在看到新闻之后再打开吧。”  
我桌上的表响了。她站起身，伸手握了握我的手。  
“很高兴见到你。”她说。  
然后在我开口道别之前，她离开了。

* * *

我醒过来的时候电视上在报道一桩谋杀案。  
女儿试图谋杀父亲，枪打偏了，父亲自卫杀死女儿，随后被逮捕。  
我去了一趟事务所，把信封拿走之后立刻就离开了。信封里是委托书和一把储物柜钥匙，信封的上写的地址是附近的火车站。  
我开车去了火车站，找到了储物柜，打开了它。我感到震惊无比，但不是因为她，一个未成年的娼妓，在三年内能够赚到这么多的钱，而是因为这世界上竟然有这么多的人，男人们，花钱去强奸一个和他们的女儿差不多大的女孩。  
我说过我已经向她阐明了所有其他的解决方式了吗？我能够想到的所有的方式。报警，举报给儿童保护机构，把他们都抓起来，你不需要担心之后的事情，因为这个案件会被提起公诉。  
我当然说过，因为我记得她当时站在那里，轻轻地摇头，悲伤地微笑着打断了我。  
“我不接受其他任何的结局。”她说，“我只想要他死。”  
或许我应该报警的，她第一次来这里说她要杀了她父亲的时候是预谋杀人，而那天晚上她说她搞到了手枪是非法持有武器。  
又或者我应该至少提醒她，那把枪的后坐力很有可能会让她肩膀脱臼，所以她的机会只有一次。  
但这都意味着我要主动地把自己牵扯进去，而这对我的声誉和我的事业并不是什么好事。当然，我对自己的辩护能力很有自信，如果她真的让我辩护，我当然有能力减轻判刑，或者改判为正当防卫，如果给我足够的时间和合适的检方的话，我甚至能“证明”她的清白。  
但我当时什么都没做，因为我们之间的承诺只会在她被捕之后生效。  
而现在她死了。  
她付给我的钱和委托书不再有意义。  
后来，我从朋友那里得知，她的父亲在寻找城里最好的谋杀辩护律师，但是他每找到一个，就要和对方砍价，以至于全城的律师都对他敬而远之。朋友和我抱怨了好久，这个人对钱的执着有多么疯狂，而我一点也不意外。毕竟我从很久以前就知道，他是一个仅仅为了剩下叫妓女的钱就能强暴亲生女儿的彻头彻尾的渣滓。  
而我呢？我在车里，前往郊区，带着那封来自一个失败的谋杀犯的委托书，和那袋来自一名死掉的妓女的钱。我在一处废弃的野营地停车，用那里的篝火堆把这些东西全部烧掉，灰烬被我倒进河里。   
钱烧起来就像其他东西一样，很烫，烟很多，火光明亮到刺伤我的眼睛。因为戴着眼镜，所以我看得格外清楚，那光芒也更加地刺痛。于是我摘掉眼镜，被浓烟熏出了眼泪。  
他们都说律师是出卖灵魂的工作。而我已经不知道我是什么时候失去我的灵魂的了，我只知道，在那个时候，我已经是失去了它。  
我是一个坏律师。

**Author's Note:**

> * I got the inspiration from the Ace Attorney series. So I decided to compose a similar lawyer story, but with a darker (or realistic) theme. I have been wondering if such case happens in the AA universe, what will they do. So it's not a 100% original work.  
> * I was thinking about Kristoph Gavin when writing this attorney, and you can probably find some references (the scar and glasses, and an egocentric attitude, that is). The attorney in this story was not entirely based on him. But if you stretch it hard enough, this work could be interpreted as a Kris/reader story told from Kris's perspective and was set at around the beginning of his career (when he was not that twisted). But I doubt anyone would make this connection and it was not my intention to make this a character/reader fic.


End file.
